On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. “Actually, I am, it is terribly stupid. I'm as much astonished as you. But, what is it! What did you promise?" "To offer you my heart, my hand, my life," replied Kneebone, falling at her feet. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. ” He stared in amazement at this new aspect of the situation.
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